


Nightfall

by Emeraldsnows



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Multi, Romance, Vampires, Werewolves, oh my, townies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldsnows/pseuds/Emeraldsnows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Natasha and her family were vampires. Second, there was a part of them- and I didn't know how potent that part might be- that thirsted for my blood. And third, I maybe sort of had a thing for them. All of them.</p>
<p>(Or, Steve is Bella, Natasha is Edward, Sam is Jacob, and I'm on "Team Por que no los todos?")<br/>Pairings to be added as the chapters progress~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Initial Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing started out as a joke with a friend (not the usual friend who is to blame for my AUs, though she helped). That joke led to a 2 am phone call that snowballed everything into my NaNoWriMo project this year.   
> I've tried to match the writing style of the books, reading the chapters as I go along and not doing any actual research whatsoever! Instead of high school, this story is set in college because high school sucks and literally no one would question a group of kids WHO LOOK LIKE THEY BELONG IN COLLEGE ANYWAY staying in said college for multiple years. I have opinions on the life choices of the vampires of Twilight. I will address said opinions.

Chapter 1: Initial Glimpse

 

I sighed as the plane took me away from my home in Brooklyn, from an empty apartment and my mother’s grave, to my new place of residence. I was on my way to the small town in Washington where my father lived, a place called Forks that had absolutely nothing going for it. I had spent two weeks there every summer until I turned 16. And then I stopped. That was around the time Mom started getting sick and I couldn’t just leave her on her own, especially not to spend a miserable time with the man she’d left in the town she hadn’t been able to get out of fast enough.

 

Now, I was going back, to live with my father for the foreseeable future. It was only a few weeks before I was meant to go off to college. All my choices on that matter had been taken from me. But I could deal with that. I had to.

 

The flight there seemed all too short before I was disembarking in the dreary little airport in Port Angeles. My dad, the former Colonel Chester Phillips, known to the local townspeople as Police Chief Phillips, was standing stiffly at the baggage claim, waiting for me.

 

“Steven,” he greeted, holding out his hand.

 

“Sir,” I returned, shaking his hand. I only ever called him  sir , never Dad. I nearly tripped when he clapped me on the shoulder, somehow forgetting I was too small to handle his full strength like that. He tended to do that a lot, like if he just ignored it hard enough it would change the fact that I was short, skinny, and pathetic.

 

I had only brought a carry on full of medications with me so we didn’t have to wait for the baggage carousel to deliver anything. All of my stuff had already been sent over or sold off to help pay for Mom’s funeral and my plane ticket here. What little I had left was going to pay for my textbooks for the next semester until I could find a job. I also wanted to buy a car as soon as possible. I didn’t want to inconvenience the Colonel and ask for a ride in his cruiser every time I needed to go somewhere.

 

“So, how are you doing, son?” the Colonel asked after we’d been driving in silence for over twenty minutes.

 

I shrugged. “Asthma didn’t flare up on the flight, didn’t trip and break any bones falling down the escalator.”

 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said firmly. Right, he never was one to deal with nonsense, always wanted to get right to the point of things.

 

And I knew exactly what he meant. But I wasn’t sure how I felt. Mom’s death had been slow and drawn out for nearly three years. I’d gone through all the different stages of grief a long time ago and cycled back through at least twice. She’d practically been all I had growing up, raising me on her own after she left my father, too much of a free spirit to stay trapped in her tiny hometown for the rest of her life. And now she was gone, her funeral not even a week behind me.

 

“I’m just tired,” I settled on.

 

The Colonel nodded. Silence fell again. Neither of us ever had much to say to each other. Yeah, this new arrangement was definitely going to be awkward more often than not.

 

“I was able to find a car for you,” the Colonel said suddenly. “I know you were going to look for one and an old army buddy of mine was looking to get rid of his old truck. You remember Nick Fury?”

 

I shook my head because honestly, most of the people the Colonel considered friends were old army buddies and I’m pretty sure nearly half the town was made up of them but that wasn’t saying much given the practically miniscule population.

 

“We used to go fishing with him and his son, he’s about your age,” he went on to clarify and that would explain why I didn’t really remember. Those fishing trips had always been miserable, bug infested failures. “He’s been missing that eye of his since we left the Army and now his bum knee has given up on him completely. He’s not been using the truck for a while.”

 

I perked up a bit at the prospect of a short search for a car. “How much is he asking for?”

 

“I already bought it for you,” the Colonel said.

 

“You didn’t have to do that, sir,” I protested, because if there was one thing I learned from him, it was to never accept charity.

 

“Consider it a graduation and homecoming present.”

 

“But sir-“

 

“It’s already done,” he said stubbornly. “Save your money for your school.”

 

I bit my lip before saying, “Thank you.” I genuinely meant it.

 

“It’s an old rust bucket but Nick and his kid have been keeping up with the engine so it should run well enough for you.”

 

I nodded and went back to staring out the window of the cruiser. Everything passed by in a green blur. A pretty green, admittedly, but dully monochrome. Raindrops streaked along the glass.

 

“All of your stuff is in your room,” the Colonel said as he pulled into the driveway. My new truck was parked on the street out front, a big rusty looking monstrosity built like a tank. I’d look absolutely tiny in it. “I figured I’d let you unpack it the way you want.”

 

The house hadn’t changed at all since I was born. Mismatched furniture, tacky figurines, my father’s Army medals and trophies and awards, some very old art projects from my elementary school years. There was a series of photos lined up on the mantle, embarrassingly starting with a baby photo of me and moving on until my senior picture. A lot of it was left over from Mom’s influence; it all felt like a sad memento to the family life we never had.

 

My room was similarly unchanged except for the boxes piled up in the center. There weren’t a lot of them, just enough to get in the way a bit. They mostly held clothes, a few keepsakes of Mom’s, and what few good art supplies I owned. My bed was still covered in the old, worn quilt my grandmother had made when I was born. It was probably one of the few things here I was actually sentimental about.

 

I didn’t much feel like unpacking so I just flopped down on the bed. It was soft and lumpy. The rain outside was loud falling on the roof and I couldn’t seem to calm my mind enough to even try for a nap. So instead I got up and wandered downstairs. The Colonel was sitting in his armchair in the living room, watching a basketball game on TV. I made my way past into the kitchen, stomach beginning to twinge with hunger. There wasn’t really much to be found in terms of food. Pasta, rice, a few cans of beans, several boxes of frozen chicken and beef. Nothing green or healthy like mom always had. I would have to take over shopping duty if I was going to try to convince the Colonel to get so much as a granola bar.

 

I started putting together chicken and rice for dinner, finding a bag of frozen peas in the very back of the freezer. The Colonel came sniffing about after a few minutes.

 

“Where’d you find something green?” he asked skeptically, frowning.

 

“Freezer,” I answered, not looking up as I flipped some of the chicken over in the frying pan.

 

“I think I used that for my shoulder when I threw it out last month,” he commented.

 

Well, they were probably still ok to eat. He went about setting the little table shoved against the wall. There were three chairs, like there always had been, even if they left barely any room to move around. We ate in silence. It was different than the meals I was used to. Mom always talked, made sure I was talking too, about school, about what few friends I had, about nothing and everything until it was time to start my homework or go to bed. I wasn’t sure how to even start a conversation with my father.

 

“Everything’s settled with your school,” he let me know as we were cleaning up the dishes.

 

“The financial aid went through?” I asked.

 

“Most of it,” he commented offhandedly.

 

Mom had always wanted me to go to a big university with a good art program, some place like NYU. The Colonel had wanted me to go into the military (until my asthma and constant illness finally convinced him that was never going to happen.) Instead, I was going to the local community college, a good twenty-minute drive down the road, because we were too broke to afford anything fancier at the moment. The plan was for me to get through my undergraduate years and then I’d figure out where I wanted to go from there. Where I  could go, at least. There weren’t many prospects for a scrawny art major in terms of financially lucrative careers.

 

I had a week before classes started. A whole week to unpack the remains of my old life into my new one. A short little week to get used to everything changing around me. I wasn’t looking forward to any of it.

 

.:.

 

I woke up the morning of my first day of classes without the excited anxiety I usually felt on the first day of a new school year. Mom used to make a whole big thing of the first day of school. She’d wake up early and make pancakes, talk on and on about how much fun I was going to have with new classes and friends. The Colonel wasn’t quite as enthusiastic. He was already on his way out of the front door by the time I made my way downstairs fro breakfast. I had a quick bowl of cornflakes before I trudged out into the rain soaked day.

 

I wore a thick sweater under my thicker raincoat and a pair of rain boots from the house that still fit me even though they were bought when I was twelve. I didn’t like the cold but I was familiar with it at least, knew the best ways to huddle up in layers of clothes so I wouldn’t freeze due to my complete lack of body fat. It was the wet I wasn’t prepared for. It just made everything so much more miserable, rain drops finding their way to chill me despite the fact I had my hood pulled up over my head.

 

I had to jump to get into the cab of my truck but I was too eager to find shelter from the rain to care.

 

The local community college was barely bigger than the nearby high school, probably had four more buildings and a larger parking lot. The lot wasn’t even moderately occupied as cars began trickling in. I parked as close to the front as I could manage in an attempt to reduce the amount of time I would have to spend in the rain. I kept an eye out for anyone who might look a little lost or overwhelmed, the telltale signs of a new freshman. Unfortunately, most of the students had all known each other since they were toddlers and everyone greeted everyone else like old friends come back from the war. I would be the only one looking lost and standing out. Well, nothing for it but to jump out of my truck and face the stares.

 

Freshman Orientation was held in the tiny auditorium in the middle of campus. There were maybe a hundred students and that was being very generous. We sat in the itchy fabric covered seats while several professors and administrators went over the code of conduct, course offerings, a weird attempt to encourage school pride, and a slightly disturbing skit about personal safety. Once pamphlets, maps, and forms had all been handed out, a group of students filed in. They were introduced as our upperclassmen leaders, meant to help us figure out where everything was and how to get what we needed for classes.

 

Everyone split off into smaller groups, talking with their assigned upperclassmen. I stayed in my seat, browsing through some of the financial aid brochures.

 

“Excuse me,” a mild voice interrupted. I startled a little at being addressed and looked up. A plain looking young man stood in the row of seats in front of me, smiling softly. “Are you Steven Rogers?”

 

“Steve,” I corrected.

 

“I’m Phil Coulson,” he said, holding out his hand. I shook it. “I’m your upperclassman guide.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you.” I began trying to stuff my newly acquired papers into my bag.

 

“I just wanted to make sure you knew how to get to all your classes,” Phil said. “You’ll have your Lit class in building 3, along with Trig. Your chemistry class is in the lab building. The lab is there too, obviously, though they’re not in the same classroom. Same professor, Dr. Banner, he’s really good. And then I think your art class is in building 5, across campus from everything else.”

 

“You… memorized my course list,” I pointed out uncertainly. I was pretty sure it was weird for a total stranger to know all the classes I was taking, even if they were supposed to be helping me out.

 

“Sorry,” Phil said, blushing slightly. “I like to be prepared to help the students I’m assigned to. And I didn’t recognize your name so I assumed you were the sheriff’s son.”

 

Oh great, so everyone knew who I was already.

 

Something of my discomfort must have shown on my face, prompting Phil to say, “We’re a pretty close knit community around here. New comers are always noticed but there’s been rumors about you coming home for a while now.”

 

Coming home. Like this was where I belonged more than Brooklyn.

 

“I can walk you to your first class if you like,” Phil offered. “And I can meet you in the dining hall for lunch, you know, so you’re not eating alone.”

 

I actually appreciated the offer, even if Phil was a little awkward about it. Guess we could both get along in that regard. But…

 

“Don’t you have other students to help out?”

 

Phil grinned. “Unlike you, a lot of the students here have been to enough functions on campus to know their way around. There’s not a lot to do in town unless the school puts something together.”

 

I was aware of that fact. Forks was extremely boring compared to the packed and busy sprawl of home. I let Phil walk me to my Lit class, nodding along and occasionally adding my own input as he rambled on the whole way there. I waved goodbye to him before entering the classroom.

 

The professor didn’t keep us the full two hours on the first day. He handed out the syllabus, recommended we get our required books and start reading as soon as possible, and then let us go on our way. A few people came up to me to say hi to the sheriff’s son. They kept saying things along the lines of welcome back or welcome home and it was starting to bother me. I kicked around in the classroom for a few minutes longer than everyone else (except for those few people trying to get to know the professor, even if the first day was a bit early to start brown nosing), waited for the crowds to disappear long enough to make my escape. I hurried to the library and set myself up in a corner of the room.

 

It wasn’t that I was overly shy and wary of people. Growing up with my mother made that nearly impossible, what with her dragging me out to meet new friends of hers whenever she wasn’t working at the clinic. But I was saving my energy to face the rest of the day. So instead, I started people watching. There were a handful of students milling in and out of the front entrance, a couple others like me sitting in chairs, reading or zoning out as they listened to music. I reached into my bag and pulled out my sketchbook. It was one of my newer ones, with only a few half hearted drawings spaced out on the first few pages. I hadn’t much been in the mood for drawing these past few weeks. But I had nothing else to do until my next class, so I figured I might as well work on my life drawings.

 

I kept an eye on the clock on the far wall and by the time I had to leave for my next class, I had a pretty good rendering of the girl sitting in the corner with headphones in her ears and brightly colored shoelaces.

 

Apparently the Trig professor had it out for every single one of us, immediately starting in on a long lesson the first day. It was mostly review of what we should already know but still, no one wants to work on the first day of classes. At the very least, she let us go thirty minutes early. I headed to the dining hall for an early lunch.

 

It wasn’t hard to find Phil again. He was waiting at the front entrance to the dining hall, talking with another young man with glasses. They both turned to look at me as I approached and Phil’s face lit up with a smile.

 

“Steve!” he greeted. “This is Jasper Sitwell, he’s another junior like me.”

 

Jasper nodded to me before giving Phil a smug look. I wasn’t entirely sure what that was about. We went inside and grabbed our trays of food before finding a table in the middle of the crowded dining hall. Phil and Jasper immediately struck up a conversation with the people already sitting there, something about the demands of their classes that I only half paid attention to. Instead, I looked around the room.

 

That’s when I saw them for the first time.

 

There were four of them, two young men and two women, sitting at the very edge of the crowd, looking some how isolated from everything and everyone around them. They were all breathtakingly gorgeous. One of the men was lanky, built like a runner with shockingly white hair. The other one was stockier, arms and chest perfectly muscled, his hair blond and spiked in the way that was supposed to make it look unintentionally messy. One of the women looked slightly younger than the others, long black hair falling over her shoulders, her body made of soft looking curves like a model. Their skin was pale, though not in the sickly way that mine was; theirs was more like ivory or marble.

 

And then there was her. She was probably the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my life. She had the same pale skin as the others. Her hair was fiery red, curled artfully just above her shoulders. She was slim, leaning casually back in her chair, feet propped in the blond man’s lap. And she was staring right at me.

 

No one had ever looked at me the way she was. Appraising as her gaze took in what little of me there was but with something like…  hunger dark in her eyes. I couldn’t look away from her, couldn’t move any part of my body as a corner of her perfect, deep red lips turned upward in a smirk.

 

“Steve?” Phil leaned into my line of sight, breaking whatever had me frozen in place. I blinked at him, completely dazed.

 

“What?”

 

“Dude, what were you staring at?” Jasper asked, craning over to try and see for himself.

 

“Nothing,” I replied hastily. I could already feel a blush completely engulfing my face.

 

Phil looked around too and his face suddenly turned disappointed. “Oh.”

 

“What ‘oh?’” Jasper demanded.

 

“He found the Carters,” Phil said, his voice flat.

 

Yeah, the blush just burned hotter at that. I glanced back over and saw her tuck her hair behind her ear, still smirking as she turned her attention back to the others at her table.

 

“Oh man, you do  not want to mess with that,” Jasper warned. “Any of them, honestly, but especially Natasha.”

 

I tried not to look too interested in her name. It fit her, somehow.

 

“That’s the red head?” I asked, nonchalant as I could manage.

 

“Yes.” Phil’s tone let me know I’d failed miserably. “The Carters moved down here about a year or two ago from Alaska. They’re all cousins or something, adopted by their Aunt Peggy. She works with your dad. Wanda and Pietro are the twins, the girl with the black hair and the bleach blond guy. They’re not really friendly. The blond guy who looks like he lifts too many weights is Clint. I’m pretty sure he and Natasha are a thing.”

 

“I heard she’s got something going on with Dr. Banner,” Jasper said conspiratorially.

 

“The chemistry professor?” I asked, vaguely remembering Phil mentioning the name earlier in the auditorium.

 

“Yeah, he lives with the whole bunch of them just outside of town,” Jasper explained.

 

“I thought Officer Carter and Dr. Banner were married,” someone piped up from further down the table. They dissolved into a discussion of the exact relations of the Carters and who exactly Natasha was supposed to be involved with. I looked back over at their table while everyone else debated. They were all four grinning as if at some inside joke before they elegantly stood up at the same time. They moved like dancers, grace and power as they dumped their trays. I noticed they hadn’t touched any of the food on their plates. Natasha looked back at me as they left, pausing in the doorway to give me one last smile before disappearing.

 

I wound up sitting in the dining hall, listening to the rumors about the whole Carter family, until I realized exactly what time it was and had to run in order to make it to my next and last class of the day. I rushed into the chemistry classroom seconds before the professor stood to start addressing the class. I cast about for an open spot, found one in the last row of lab benches and hurried over.

 

I nearly tripped when I saw Natasha Carter sitting in the next seat over. She regarded me with the same smirk from the dining hall.

 

“If everyone could take their seats, please?” the professor suggested and I realized I was just standing dumbly in the middle of the aisle. I blushed and stumbled to the empty seat. As I sat down on the stool, Natasha’s entire demeanor changed. Her eyes widened in surprise, nostrils flaring. She tensed and I saw her actually move her whole body as far away from me as her stool would allow her. Her face contorted into a grimace, as if I was the most revolting thing to ever come near her. I was completely taken aback and mildly offended but I couldn’t come up with a response as the professor began speaking.

 

“Welcome to Chem 1,” he said. He was just as pale as the Carters were but he seemed slightly more disheveled than the others. His hair was curly and messy and the thick pair of glasses he wore kept sliding down his nose. He kept pushing them back a few minutes after they slipped, as if being able to see properly with them was an after thought. “I’m Dr. Banner and today we’re going to go over lab safety.”

 

The next two hours passed as we went over the lab safety handouts, signed the safety waiver forms, and watched a very old lab safety video. Natasha stayed tense next to me the entire time. Her hand was clenched tightly around the edge of her stool and I wasn’t entirely sure she was even breathing. I subtly sniffed at my armpit. Smelled like my deodorant to me, so this weird reaction couldn’t be because I stank.

 

As soon as the video ended, Natasha stood and dashed out the door. Dr. Banner raised an eyebrow after her. “That’s all for today, everybody. It would be best if you could try to purchase your lab books from the bookstore before tomorrow’s labs. Otherwise you can share with a partner and make copies. I’ll see most of you tomorrow, I hope.”

 

Everyone began shuffling about, putting away their stuff into their bags before getting up to leave. Once again I stay rooted in my seat while everyone else milled out. I was too confused by what had just happened. Natasha had been  smiling at me in the dining hall. Had that been a cruel joke? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had pretended to like me to get a few laughs out of their friends. She’d acted like I was the grossest thing in the world and I hadn’t even said a word to her.

 

“Um, hi there,” a soft voice said. I looked up from my thoughts and saw a pretty strawberry blond woman standing in front of me. “Are you Steven?”

 

“Steve,” I corrected again. I hated that my father called me that when talking to other people about me.

 

“I’m Pepper Dugan,” she introduced herself. “My dad’s an old army buddy of your dad’s.”

 

“Which one?” I half joked.

 

She smiled with me. “Dum-Dum Dugan.”

 

“I remember him,” I said honestly. He was probably one of the few of my dad’s friends I actually liked. “Not you, though, sorry.”

 

“It’s ok,” she said. “I usually try to get away when the old army gang gets together. They tend to turn into complete  guys whenever they’re together. Makes being a girl a little uncomfortable.”

 

“I can relate a little,” I told her. I gathered my bag and walked out of the classroom with her.

 

“So what did you say to Natasha in class just now?” Pepper asked as we made our way out to the parking lot.

 

I frowned. “Nothing. I didn’t even say hi.”

 

“That’s weird,” she said and I agreed. “Though, most of the Carters are a bit… unusual.”

 

“I noticed,” I commented.

 

“So how are you settling in with the Colonel?” she asked, easily changing the subject. I told her some of the nicer parts of living with my father, how he was adjusting to me living with him and vise versa. We split up once we hit the pavement, Pepper to a cute little sedan a few rows down from my truck. I tossed my bag into the passenger seat and it was just my luck that the whole thing fell open into the foot space below.

 

“Great,” I grumbled, hopping in to scoop it all back up. It only took me a minute to realize my sketchbook wasn’t with the rest of my junk. I frowned as I realized I’d left it back in the chemistry classroom. It was drizzling now which meant I’d have to walk all the way back in the rain. Oh well.

 

I stopped just outside the door to the classroom when I realized there were people talking inside. I peaked around the doorway and saw Dr. Banner talking with Natasha and Clint.

 

“-have to let me take a different class, Bruce,” Natasha was insisting. “I can’t do this again.”

 

“You just told us what you saw, Nat,” Clint said. “It can’t be that bad.”

 

“It’s not just that,” she said.

 

“I’m not certain I’ve got anywhere else to place you,” Dr. Banner said apologetically. “Do you think you can handle this all for a while? I can try to help-“

 

They stopped talking as I stupidly leaned too far into the classroom and nearly fell on my face.

 

“Ah, sorry,” I said, ducking my head. “Forgot something.”

 

Clint was grinning as if he was trying to hold back a laugh while Dr. Banner merely raised an eyebrow. Natasha, though, scowled at me.

 

“I guess I’ll figure out a way to endure,” she said simply before storming out of the classroom. Clint followed at a more sedate pace, winking at me before he left. I didn’t bother looking up to see what Dr. Banner was doing as he hurried to the back. My sketchbook was sitting neatly on the tabletop. I quickly grabbed it but something caught my eye. Something seemed off about the stool Natasha had been sitting in. I frowned and moved to get a closer look.

 

The edge of the seat was completely bent out of shape, the metal flexed into an odd, bumpy pattern. Maybe that’s why Natasha had been so angry during class. Except… she was trying to transfer to a different class. This couldn’t be about me, she didn’t even know me. Why on earth…

 

The dented pattern looked like a hand had crushed it out of shape and I immediately thought of how Natasha had gripped the stool all through class. How…?

 

It still bothered me hours later as I half-heartedly leafed through the chemistry lab booklet at the dinner table. The Colonel swallowed his mouthful of salmon and rice and asked, “Everything go ok with school today?”

 

I nodded. “Yeah. Made a few friends. Ran into Dum-Dum’s daughter, Pepper. We’ve got chemistry together.”

 

“That’s good,” he said vaguely.

 

“Do you know anything about the Carters?” I asked.

 

“People talking about them again?” the Colonel asked, face suddenly going dark.

 

“Kind of,” I said. “I met a few of them today.”

 

“They’re good people,” the Colonel stated firmly. “Peggy is one of my best deputies and those kids are better behaved than half the kids who grew up in this town. And Dr. Banner is more than over qualified to teach at the college, they should be grateful to have him there, not spreading gossip.”

 

I didn’t say anything more, about how Natasha seemed to hate me for no reason. I guess it was something she and I would both have to learn how to live with.

 

 


	2. Easy Read

The next day was better.

I didn’t have classes until noon, which meant I got to sleep in a bit. It also meant that I wouldn’t have time to pick up food in the dining hall, skipping over any awkward run ins with Natasha Carter. I would have to face her later on in the chemistry lab but hopefully the seating arrangements would be different and I would be able to partner up with someone else.

The first day of art class was as short as my other classes had been. The supply list wasn’t too long and most of what I needed I already owned. With it came a first week assignment, to gather reference pictures for the final semester project. I was already starting to form a few ideas when someone sat down way too close to me and leaned into my space.

“You’re new and also cute.”

I leaned away from the guy “Hi there?”

“I’m Wade and you’re Steve, right, the guy everyone’s been talking about?” He introduced himself and asked his question in a single breath.

“Probably,” I muttered.

“Cool, cool, that’s awesome, we never get new people, especially not anyone worth hanging out with. I mean, I’ve seen the same hundred people my whole life, it’s like some weird incestuous horror movie when you start breaking down the whole courtship rituals of the average college student of Forks.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that but my blank staring didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest.

“I mean, some people here are ok, like a few of them can follow along in a sophisticated conversation such as we’re having but not all of them make for the best eye candy, you know? Now there is a particular set of upperclassmen with delectable hindquarters but I’m not about to start name-dropping. You’ll know them when you see them, though, trust me. Unless you’ve already seen them. Have you?”

“I’m not-“

“That’s fine,” he waved me off before letting me explain I had absolutely no clue what he was talking about. “I’ll point them out to you. Or maybe I won’t, after all, you’re currently Forks Community College’s Most Wanted Eye Candy, all caps and copyright pending.”

How much did the dating pool around here suck if everyone was trying to hit on me just because I was the only new blood to come to town in the last decade. Well, except for the Carters but if Natasha’s actions had been any indication, they weren’t exactly available.

The professor called us all to order and started class, catching Wade’s attention long enough for me to scoot away.

Wade followed me after class, chattering about his favorite Mexican restaurants (or lack thereof if I was following his rabbit trails correctly) all the way to the chemistry lab and even made it three steps inside before he seemed to realize where he was.

“Oh, I am so not allowed in here,” he said as if I should have known better. “Bad things happen when I’m near Bunsen burners, they like to spontaneously combust.”

“Then you should probably get away from them.” I tried to sound amused more than I was freaked out. Wade smiled lopsidedly at me before bowing low. He actually picked up my hand and kissed the air above it before dashing off.

What the hell?

Grimacing slightly, I checked around the room. Everyone was pretty much sat where they did in the chemistry class, partnering up with their buddies and leaving me alone. Actually alone. The table in the back where Natasha sat yesterday was empty. I sat on the edge of my seat as I waited for class to start, dreading every second ticking by. I was actually surprised when Dr. Banner called the class to order and Natasha still hadn’t shown up. Maybe she had managed to get into a different class period.

I looked for her the next day in the dining hall while Phil and his friends talked around me again. The rest of the Carters were sitting at the same table but Natasha was nowhere in sight. Now I really wanted to know what her problem was. Was she so offended by my presence she couldn’t even come to school? The others kept glancing back at me.

I managed to fall into a decent rhythm by the end of the week, between classes and homework and cooking at home. I was bored once the weekend rolled around, though, with nothing to do but tidy up the house a bit. I went out and bought a paper around noon, hoping to find a job somewhere in the classifieds. My leftover money was only going to last so long with my gas guzzler of a truck and I wasn’t going to live off the Colonel’s charity, even if he would have offered it.

I had a few prospects in line at local stores by the time Monday rolled around. I met up with Scott, one of the guys who hung out with Phil’s lunch group, just outside of the Lit classroom to talk about our reading from last week. It was one of Melville’s shorts and Scott had some interesting opinions on it.

We walked to the dining hall together until a bright flash of fiery hair stopped me cold. Natasha was walking into the dining hall ahead of us, laughing with her cousins.

“Steve?” Scott waved in my face. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” I lied, because I was honestly fighting back a sudden surge of anger. I couldn’t really justify it since Natasha had every right to feel the way she wanted about me but I was still offended by it. Maybe if she was still in the same chemistry class later on, I could confront her, figure out what exactly her problem was.

She was sitting in the back of the class, watching the door as I walked in. She watched me approach with interest but as I moved closer, her body started leaning further away. Really? I put my bag down on the table top with a bit more force than I needed to. She quirked an eyebrow upwards but didn’t comment until I’d sat on the stool next to her.

“Hello.”

I raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. I’d been expecting a lot worse to come out of her mouth than a simple hello given how she’d acted last week.

“I’m Natasha Carter,” she continued as if I wasn’t staring at her like a total moron. “I’m afraid I didn’t get to introduce myself previously.”

_And who’s fault is that?_ I wanted to snap at her but my mom had raised me better than to be rude to a woman, no matter how oddly she was acting. “Steve Rogers,” I said instead, sounding lame even to myself.

Natasha’s lips quirked in a slight smile. “I’m aware. I’m pretty sure the whole town knows who you are.”

I grimaced. “I’d noticed. This place has gotten even more boring than I remembered if I’m the most interesting thing here.”

“You seem pretty interesting to me,” Natasha commented. I was honestly surprised but before I could gather my thoughts to reply further, Dr. Banner stood up and started class. I kept watching Natasha out of the corner of my eye. She kept her gaze firmly ahead, taking meticulous notes in a neat script. Her body was still leaning as far away from me as possible.

During a break in the lecture, while we were supposed to be working together in our lab books, Natasha asked, “How are you liking Forks? Besides the idle gossip, that is.”

I was taken aback by her interest in me. I’d expected outright disdain, given her actions previously. But here she was, asking me how I was doing. Her mood swings were really throwing me off.

“It’s alright, I guess,” I answered hesitantly. She seemed genuinely interested in hearing my response so I continued. “It’s a lot wetter than Brooklyn, but I’m pretty sure only the ocean is wetter than Forks.”

She made an amused noise. “So you’re from Brooklyn?”

“Yeah.” I was glad she didn’t mention anything about Forks being my real home, the way everyone else annoyingly did. “I lived there with my mom. I miss how busy it is there. And how no one really knew me outside of my apartment complex.”

“You’re not really one for the limelight, are you.” It was an obvious statement of fact.

“I’m just a kid from Brooklyn,” I joked lamely. “Nothing special about me, don’t know why everyone thinks there is.”

I frowned then, realizing I was on the brink of confessing my whole miserable life story to this woman who probably still despised me and was only talking to me out of courtesy. She raised an eyebrow questioningly, as if she knew what I was thinking at that moment, and that’s when I noticed something different about her.

“Are you wearing contacts?” I asked bluntly.

“No,” she replied, frowning.

“Your eyes look different,” I insisted.

“Must be the lights,” she said with a shrug and turned her face back to the front of class for the rest of our down time, refusing to look my way even though it was several minutes before Dr. Banner called the class back to attention.

I knew she was lying. Or covering up something. Because the glare she had leveled at me last Monday had come from a pair of dark black eyes. Now, they were bright gold, like honey in sunlight. There was no explaining away that kind of difference on the lights.

Natasha was up and out of the classroom once again about a minute before Dr. Banner actually released us. I wondered cattily if he let her get away with it because they lived together. Pepper came up to my table as everyone else filed out.

“Well, she seemed less upset with you today,” Pepper commented.

“That’s not saying much,” I said. “I think she was just being polite.”

The angle of her body away from me during the entire class was definitely supportive of that. Pepper walked with me out to my truck as usual and as I jumped inside, I caught sight of Natasha standing across the lot next to her car, a very nice black sports car that stood out ridiculously next to all the other beat up and hand-me-down sedans. She was staring at me intently, ignoring the other members of her family as they climbed into the car.

I could feel her gaze on the back of my neck, even as I drove away.

 


	3. Occurance

I woke the next morning with a tight feeling in my chest. The air felt different as I breathed, dryer than usual and I frowned. Looking out the window, I noticed how much brighter everything seemed. There was a thick layer of snow covering absolutely everything in sight. Worse still were the patches of slick ice covering what little the snow hadn’t been able to reach. My throat was already pinching at the sharpness of the air and I wondered if I should just stay in bed.

 

The Colonel was already gone, another early morning. I was beginning to miss Mom’s chatter that had always woken me earlier than I wanted. Living with my father was almost like living by myself. I double-checked my inhaler once I was done with breakfast, tucking it into my pocket before leaving the house. I blinked in surprise when I noticed something on the tires of my truck. It looked like the Colonel had woken even earlier than usual to put snow chains on them. I was touched by his silent show of concern and made a mental note to do something in return. Maybe I’d let him have steak for dinner tonight at the diner.

 

Since it was already later in the day, the parking lot was nearly deserted of other students. I managed to find a spot for my truck not too far from the front. I was checking out the chains on my truck when I heard the screech of tires sliding on ice. I looked up.

 

Maybe it was the adrenaline suddenly spiking through my veins but in the seconds before a beat up mini van came careening straight for me, I noticed several things.

 

Natasha and Clint Carter were a whole row of cars away, staring in wide-eyed horror with their cousins behind them. Wade Wilson was behind the wheel of the van, trying desperately to turn it away from its collision course with the tail end of my truck. And I was standing right in between.

 

The next thing I knew, something struck me to the ground but it wasn’t the van. There were arms around me, solid like stone, that kept me from fully impacting with the asphalt. The van collided solidly with the bumper of my truck and continued to whirl around. I was still in the way of its attempt to take out my truck, the tires sliding along in the ice right for my head. Someone swore and a well-muscled shoulder appeared in front of me, stopping the van inches from my face and leaving a massive dent in the side of it.

 

Clint Carter blinked down at me in surprise.

 

“Steve?” Natasha’s voice called worriedly from behind me and I barely realized I was lying practically on top of her. “Are you all right?”

 

There were people screaming from further in the parking lot as what few students there were realized what they’d just witnessed.

 

“I’m fine,” I tried to say but my lungs were clenched shut and I couldn’t get a breath in to breathe much less speak. I tried to sit up, to grab my inhaler from my pocket, but Natasha had me in a solid grip.

 

“Clint, inhaler in his pocket,” Natasha instructed. Clint had it out and in my mouth within a second and I sucked in the medicine greedily. Natasha slowly let me go and I grabbed hold of Clint’s wrist to hold the inhaler closer, desperately. By the time the medicine was working, I had a million questions and a crowd of people had surrounded us.

 

“Is everyone ok?”

 

“Oh my god, Wilson’s bleeding, get him out of there!”

 

“Someone call 911!”

 

I pulled Clint’s hand away from my face and slowly sat up, feeling sore despite not being crushed to death. Natasha got to her feet in one fluid movement, brushing snow from her pants as she did. Clint looked up at her and some sort of silent communication went on between them.

 

“How the hell did you two get over here so fast?” I asked, looking back and forth between them. They both looked at me.

 

“We were standing right next to you, Steve,” Natasha said seriously. Her eyes were intense and I wanted to agree with her but… no, that was wrong.

 

“Clint, make sure he stays put,” Natasha said and she jumped over the crumpled front end of the mini van.

 

“Aw, but it’s cold down here,” Clint complained. He pouted at me.

 

“I saw you,” I told him insistently. “You two were no where near me.”

 

“We were right next to you, Steve,” Clint persisted with the lie. “We just pulled you out of the way. Trust me.”

 

“Why should I?” I demanded. Impossible feats of physics were not something they could just hand wave away.

 

Clint stared at me intensely, looking me up and down and focusing on my face like he was trying to read me. “If we promise to explain later, will you just let this go for now?”

 

I frowned but nodded. The sound of sirens came drifting from up the road and I tried to get to my feet. Clint put a firm hand on my shoulder, keeping me in place.

 

“Sit, dude, you almost just died and had an asthma attack on top of it. Nat will kill me if you keel over on my watch.” He grinned.

 

“I’m not all that fragile, you know,” I grumbled. He scoffed.

 

The EMTs arrived on scene and careful went about extracting Wade from the wreckage of his van before they came to rescue us. Natasha was standing nearby, talking to one of the EMTs while casting worried glances my way. The backstabbing traitor was convincing them to treat me like I’d actually been injured. They strapped me onto a gurney while Clint was allowed to walk of his own free will.

 

As I was wheeled into the back of the nearest ambulance, I saw their family standing a few rows over, where I’d seen Clint and Natasha standing. The twins looked upset, though not all that concerned that their cousins had been involved in the accident. Dr. Banner’s mouth was drawn in a flat line.

 

Clint hopped in the back with me, grinning the whole time. Natasha was allowed to ride in the front seat. None of the EMTs were even bothering to actually check them over and the few times they tried, they were deflected by a few smooth whispers and looks that could only be described as smoldering.

 

Jerks.

 

I was placed in the emergency room which, given the placid nature of the town, was small and completely empty. A nurse took my vitals, made a comment about how my asthma was acting up, and then disappeared. I sat up as soon as she was gone and tried to get out of the lumpy hospital bed. I paused when another rush of nurses and EMTs pushed Wade through. He looked like shit but he was looking worriedly at me.

 

“Steve, oh my god, I am so sorry, are you ok?”

 

“I’m fine, Wade,” I reassured him, feeling enormously guilty. His face was completely covered in bandages along the right side and as the nurses began removing them, I could see a ton of small cuts and embedded glass. It looked extremely painful and here he was worrying about me. “You look awful.”

 

“Does this hurt my chances of getting a date?” he joked and I knew he was going to be ok. He couldn’t be feeling all that bad if he was still trying to flirt with me. “How did you not get completely squished like a bug on my front bumper?”

 

And that was the million-dollar question. “Um, Natasha and Clint pulled me out of the way.”

 

“The Carters?” he asked, looking confused, then pained as the nurses began pulling glass from his cheek. “Damn, they’re hot, too. But I usually notice when that much hot is in one location, I didn’t even see them.”

 

“They were standing right next to me,” I lied. “Everything was happening so fast, I guess you missed them.”

 

“I guess-“

 

“Stop talking, please,” one of the nurses ordered.

 

So I wasn’t crazy then. The Carters hadn’t been anywhere near me and then suddenly they were pushing a car off of me. I had to know what the hell had happened. But they wouldn’t let me go. As soon as one of the nurses was paying attention, they shoved me right back into bed and insisted they had to run a few more tests to make sure I was ok. They wouldn’t listen to my protests so I was stuck in the ER with Wade continuously apologizing around getting his face bandaged. He wouldn’t listen to me when I said I was perfectly fine either.

 

 

“You dead yet?” a smooth voice asked jokingly. Clint was standing at the foot of my bed, smug smile on his face. Natasha, standing right behind him, smacked him in the back of his head.

 

“Are you ok?” she asked more seriously, her voice silky.

 

“Yes,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “But no one wants to listen to me.”

 

She chuckled and it was a musical sound, like bells. “You may want to blame your father for that. He’s outside insisting they run every possible and unnecessary test they can come up with.”

 

I groaned.

 

“Here he comes,” Clint announced as the doors banged open. The Colonel came storming in, face set in a scowl, which he directed at Wade.

 

“You can kiss your license good bye, kiddo,” he growled. Wade shrunk into his bed, hanging his head.

 

“That may be a bit extreme, Chief,” a soft voice with a British accent said. I noticed the woman walking behind the Colonel then. She was gorgeous, pale like Natasha and Clint, her hair pulled back in a perfectly curled ponytail. The name P. Carter was labeled on the side of her chest, giving away why she looked so beautiful. She was the adoptive aunt that had chosen to drag all of her beautiful relatives to dreary old Forks. “Steve is perfectly fine.”

 

“I am, Sir,” I reassured him. “Can I please just go home now?”

 

The Colonel frowned at me. “They said you had an asthma attack.”

 

I tried really hard not to roll my eyes. “It was just from the shock, sir. I had my inhaler, I’m ok now.”

 

“You were very lucky,” Peggy Carter said.

 

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Lucky Natasha and Clint were so close.”

 

“Indeed.” Peggy leveled a disapproving look at them and something niggled at the back of my head. Did she know what was going on as well?

 

“The docs have cleared you,” the Colonel said reluctantly. “But I’m driving you home. You can get you truck tomorrow.”

 

“Actually, sir, if you don’t mind, I’d be more than happy to drive Steve’s truck back to your house for you,” Natasha offered. She put on a charming smile and it took only seconds for the Colonel to melt.

 

“You know the way there?” he asked. Natasha nodded and left. Clint stayed behind, looking at Peggy intently. She nodded at some sort of unspoken communication between them.

 

“I’ll get started on your discharge papers,” the Colonel said to me before he left. “Take your time, we’ll go as soon as you’re ready.”

 

I wanted to scream. He always treated me like glass whenever my asthma acted up. He never seemed able to make up his mind between treating me like the jock son he wanted or the delicate invalid he seemed to think I was.

 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” I asked Clint, seeing my chance to get some answers. He raised an eyebrow at me. Peggy frowned. “Alone?”

 

“Your father will be waiting for you,” Peggy reminded me. Her brows drew closer together and what looked like confusion crossed her face. Her focus intimidated me but I wasn’t going to back down.

 

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t trip and hurt himself on the way out,” Clint offered with a shrug. Peggy looked to him again before hesitantly nodding. She never once stopped watching me until we were outside of the ER.

 

“It’s later,” I prompted, stopping in the hallway. Clint stopped with me and glanced at me.

 

“I suppose it is,” he hedged.

 

“You promised you’d explain what happened,” I reminded him.

 

He shrugged. “Maybe I don’t think it’s later enough yet.”

 

 

Like that made any sense. “I’m lying to everyone for you. I want to know why I have to.”

 

“You’re not doing a very good job of it, you know,” he teased. “I did save your life, you know. You could at least try to be helpful.”

 

“Then tell me what happened,” I demanded.

 

His joking expression turned serious, almost cold. “What do you think happened?”

 

I let it all out in a rush. “You and Natasha were nowhere near me, and Wade didn’t see you either so it’s not shock talking, don’t even try that. You two somehow got to me in a split second and then you, I don’t know, but somehow _you_ stopped the van from crushing me with your shoulders, you made a huge dent in the van. And neither of you got hurt.”

 

It sounded a bit crazy, even as I said it aloud. Clint quirked an eyebrow at me.

 

“You know no one will believe you.”

 

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone,” I said. Not only because no one would believe me if I did, but because whatever this secret was the Carters were hiding, it wasn’t my place to out them. He seemed surprised by my statement, though.

 

“I guess Nat was right about you,” he commented.

 

“What does that mean?” I demanded.

 

He scoffed. “Get used to unanswered questions, Steve.”

 

I realized we’d started walking again when I was suddenly in the waiting room, surrounded by all the people I’d ever spoken to. Phil and Pepper were at the front of the crowd, worried expressions on their faces. Fortunately, the Colonel got to me first and led me away from the crowd.

 

My truck was already parked in the driveway when we pulled up. There was no sign of Natasha anywhere. There was a dent in the rear fender of the truck but otherwise it looked as unscathed by the whole ordeal as I was. But good luck convincing the Colonel of that. While I appreciated his concern, his insistent hovering was quickly getting on my nerves, so I turned in early.

 

That was the first night I dreamed of any of the Carters.


End file.
